I'll Stay Awake With You
by iS2.coheed.and.cambria
Summary: Something happens to Sam and when he comes back to the hotel. He's hellbent on making sure Dean doesn't come out alive. One brother dies, but the other will do everything it takes to bring them back.
1. Chapter 1

Well. It happened. Just like he said it would. He turned. He changed. He became the thing they hunt. He became the last thing he ever wanted to be.

And he couldn't stop it. He tried so hard. He fought so hard. For the first few seconds it was happening he even thought maybe his brother was right.

"_Whatever this is. You can fight it!"_

But no. For the first time in a long time his brother was wrong. The only time he didn't want to be proven right.

Sam was right. He couldn't fight it. The urge to kill took over his entire body like when you shiver from being out in the cold for too long. Your body just reacts to the need to do something, anything to deal with the want in it. The need in it. He didn't want to hurt the mother with the baby, but he needed to. He didn't want to kill the man on the phone with his daughter, but he needed to.

He didn't want to hurt Dean, but he _needed_ to.

And as those feelings started to fall away from his body, he realized what he had just done.

He came bolting threw the motel room door like he was drowning in water and on the other side was the only oxygen left. He threw himself in there like his life depended on it. And Dean, Dean was just sitting on the bed flipping threw channels. Dean glanced at his brother and shook his head.

_Aww Sammy, it only eleven o'clock and you're already drunk?_

Cause Sam had said he was going out to a bar right? Just needed to be alone for a while, right?

But Dean quickly shook that idea when he saw Sam standing up and walking like any other sober person. Sam wasn't drunk. Sam was different. Dean knew this, but only for a second before the first punch was thrown.

Sam fought as if in a trance. His face stayed determined and set on one thing, to make sure that Dean did not make it out alive. Each punch hit dead on, and landed them selves in the places only someone trained to fight would know to hit. But Dean didn't go down easily. He tried his hardest to defend himself with out hurting Sam, because he knew this wasn't Sam, not really. Dean fought hard and even injured Sam's leg. Dean pushed his foot on to his brother's ankle and then kicked hard on his brother's knees. It's the only thing he could do since Sam was restraining his hands. Sam heard his leg snap and let go of Dean. Sam couldn't walk any more.

Sam collapsed to the floor, but even with a broken leg, was able to knock Dean down. He fell hitting his head on the corner of a dresser. A huge gash quickly formed on the right side of his head and he went down completely. But 'Sam' didn't stop there. He pulled out a knife from his back pocket and drove it into his brother's shoulder. Then he continued this heartless action by twisting it slightly and pulling the knife back out regardless of his brother's pleas to stop, and not do this because it was him, his brother.

But after Sam pulled out the knife, and saw his brother start to form tears in his eyes, the human in Sam started to come out. And when what he had just done started to come into focus, Sam quickly gasped and collapsed back down, he was so exhausted.

After about five seconds of rest he shot back up and started to evaluate the damage he had done to his brother.

Dean was bleeding from his head and his shoulder. Sam doubted anything vital had been hit, but Dean was bleeding, not bad enough to bleed out for a few hours, but still his brother was bleeding. Dean had cuts and bruises quickly forming all over his arms, and when Sam lifted Dean's shirt he found a huge bruise on his stomach. A few of Dean's ribs were definitely broken. But the worst part was that Dean probably had a concussion, and would not be able to sleep until Sam got him to a hospital.

Get him to the hospital. That would be interesting to attempt since his leg was obviously broken. Sam could barely carry him self out the door much less carry himself and Dean to the hospital.

"Oh Dean… I'm so, so sorry…" Sam began, he could not even put into words how sorry he actually was. Dean had looked better after his heart attack.

"Sam… Don't worry… I just have to rest," Dean said, his eyes were closed and he looked as though he was quickly drifting into sleep.

"No, Dean you can't. You have a head injury, you have to stay awake until I can get you to a hospital." Sam said sympathetically. He pulled himself over to his brother and took off his shirt. He winced as discreetly as possible. His brother could not see him in pain, not now. Sam wrapped his shirt around his brother's shoulder, anything to try and slow the bleeding. Dean's face stayed tight in pain as if he was trying his very best to hide it.

"Did I hurt you? Are you… okay?" Dean asked seriously, the last few minutes just seemed like a blur, everything had happened so fast his brain barely had a chance to catch up.

Sam looked back at his broken leg and then back at Dean before whispering, "Yeah, Dean. I'm fine."

Sam reached in his pocket for his cell phone. It wasn't there. He said a silent prayer before reaching into his back pockets. But his prayers were not answered when he found absolutely nothing. There was no phone in this motel room, there were barely anyone else staying there, so no one to hear their cries for help. They were stuck.

Sam tried his hardest to hold back tears when he realized he wasn't going to be able to get his brother out of this motel room. They were staying right there until someone found them.

Find them. Yeah right.

Sam snapped out of his worthless thoughts. They weren't doing anything for his dying brother. Especially when he saw that Dean was shaking almost uncontrollably.

"What's wrong Dean, why you shaking like that?" Sam asked trying his hardest to bend over his brother without moving his leg.

Dean's gaze moved from the ceiling to his brother's face before he choked out, "Cold, Sammy"

Sam nodded and pushed his hand to his side looking for where he put down his coat. His hand found nothing. Then he remembered. When he was in that lady's house he heard police cars zooming towards the house, Sam jumped and ran out threw the back door, leaving his coat on the ground. The coat with the hotel business card in the pocket. Maybe the cops would find them after all.

Sam sat up and pulled himself over to the bed with all his strength. He stripped the bed of its blanket before pulling himself over to Dean. He covered his brother's shaking form with the blanket before giving himself a second to take in a breath.

"Better?" Sam asked while taking a few breaths.

"Yea…" Dean lied in a shaky voice. The thin blanket that had been thrown over him was doing nothing to stop his shaking, and he still felt like he was out in a snowstorm with summer clothes on. This constant movement made him even more tired, and his eyes were starting to close a lot more often. Sam quickly noticed this and stepped in.

"Dean come on, stay awake, please. Ok? Talk to me, talk to me about anything," Sam urged. He would not let his brother sleep in fear that he wouldn't wake up if he did, even though he knew it would be torture for his brother to stay awake while he was in pain.

Dean closed his eyes and reopened them looking away from his brother. He tried to take in a bigger breath than his broken body could handle and he broke out into a fit of coughs. When he stopped, Sam looked down at his brother horrified. There was blood around his mouth. Which meant that Dean was bleeding internally. Just what they needed now.

"Why… Why d-did you h-hurt me-e?" Dean stuttered. It was the only obvious question. Dean wanted to know why his brother had looked at him with such hate in his eyes while he beat him almost to death. Why his brother had inflicted such ruthless pain onto him and then suddenly apologized and began helping him.

Sam's eyes came from Dean's mouth to his eyes and decided he wouldn't tell Dean about him bleeding internally, it would just be something else for him to stress over. Sam sighed as a tear fell down his cheek. Dean's eyes were meeting his and they gave off a feeling of such fear that it made Sam afraid of himself. Dean was afraid of his brother and for his brother, "I didn't mean to Dean, I don't know what's wrong with me…" Sam stopped and searched his brother for understanding, but found nothing. Dean was expressionless. Sam swallowed some tears falling into his mouth, "Dean, I'm so sorry but I'm going to fix this ok?"

Sam examined his brother's head. That injury wasn't bleeding badly too badly but it needed to be wrapped. Sam pulled himself over to the closest bed again and ripped off the sheets. He painfully made his way back to Dean and then ripped a long strip to wrap around his brother's head.

When Sam lifted his brother's head, Dean gasped and winced from the movement. Something as simple as his head being lifted two inched above the ground made him want to throw up. The younger brother wrapped Dean's head as quickly as possible and then took his hand into his. Maybe if he could comfort Dean, he would try harder to stay awake.

Dean was confused. Why wasn't Sam calling an ambulance? Why wasn't he trying to get Dean to the Impala? Why hadn't he seen Sam stand up once? What was the real reason Sam had done this the first place?

"Sa-am, I d-don't underst-stand. W-why don't you c-call an ambul-ence?" Dean asked.

Sam looked away before replying, "I don't have my phone,"

Dean looked around. Sam knew what he was going ask next, but let him ask it anyway, "Im-pala?"

Sam shook his head, "I can't walk bro, my leg…"

"D-did I…"

"No, Dean I tripped and hurt it, ok? None of this is your fault, ok? Don't ever think this is your fault." Sam said a little more sternly than he had intended to.

They sat in silence for what seemed like forever. Sam only checked in every once and a while to make sure his brother wasn't asleep, but it was obvious that Dean was going threw a constant battle with staying awake. After what seemed like and an hour Sam realized his brother was slowly drifting little by little.

"No, Dean you have to stay awake ok? Talk to me…"

Dean moaned a little, but didn't move. His whole body was in pain, "Samm-yy…" He whispered.

"Yeah Dean. Tell me, tell me anything," he said now hovering over his brother a little bit. His leg was in a lot of pain, and knew that he would probably not be able to walk on that leg after this was all over. But that didn't matter. The only thing that mattered right now was Dean.

"C-can I call y-you S-Sammy?" He whispered. Normally this would be a joke, because Sam would never say yes. But this time he asked it so seriously, like he would really listen to whatever his brother told him to call him.

This request brought Sam to cry silently. "You can call me whatever you want, big brother," Sam whispered back now taking Dean's hand back into his and stroking it gently.

"W-what are w-we g-gonna d-do, S-sammy?" Dean asked.

Sam didn't know. He had no idea how he was going to get them both out of this alive. They were completely stuck there and he had no idea how to tell this to Dean. Sam had always depended on Dean to take care of him, but for the first time it was Sam who needed to take care of Dean.

"Someone's gonna find us, ok Dean? Someone's gonna find us real soon," Sam cooed, not only for Dean, but for himself, "Don't worry about anything. Focus on staying awake, I'll stay up with you, ok? I'll be right here the whole time,"

Sam watched Dean wince and try to shift around a little, "What is it Dean?"

Dean took a big breath, "I'm a l-little un-comfot-t-tble…" he said.

"What can I do?" Sam asked, he wasn't really sure how to make his brother feel better.

Dean tried to grin a little and then whispered, "C-could I p-put my h-hea-d-d on your l-lap?" Sam was immediately taken back to the when he was a little kid. He was convinced something or someone was in his closet, and begged his little brother if he could sleep in his bed with him. Of course Dean always said yes.

Sam forced a smile and nodded. Sam sat up a little more and painful pushed his legs straight out. The position wasn't particularly comfortable, but it allowed him to pull Dean's head and shoulders onto his lap. He put his arm under his older brother's head, trying to provide a make shift pillow. The move from the ground to his brother's lap was slightly painful for Dean, but as soon as he found his way into a settled position, it was all worth it.

Sam knew Dean only had a couple hours left. He wasn't bleeding much, but he knew that eventually his brother would have too little blood to stay conscious. Sam prayed that these cops weren't as stupid as some of the other ones they had encountered in the past.

Dean looked as if he was having trouble breathing now. Sam thought for a minute and then came to the conclusion that the blanket was too heavy a weight for his brother's lungs to handle.

"You want me to take off your blanket?" Sam asked.

Dean nodded, amazed at how his brother had practically read his mind. He could handle being a little cold, but he couldn't handle not breathing.

Sam removed the blanket form his brother and rubbed his arms with his free arm, attempting to warm him up. Sam had no idea what to say to his brother. He didn't know how he would be able to convince his brother he didn't want to hurt him, and he didn't know why he did it. But he knew he would never be able to find the right words.

Sam sighed and decided to take a chance. He looked at his brother's eyes and then began; "Dean, you know that I love you right?" he saw his brother nod and continued, "I need you to know, that what ever that was it wasn't me."

Dean nodded slightly before whispering, "Ch-christo,"

Both of the brothers were actually sad when nothing happened. It would have been a relief if this wasn't really Sam, that he was possessed. At least then it really wouldn't be him.

"I love you Dean, and as soon as we get out of here, and get you better, we're gonna figure out what this is, and fix it, ok?"

This heartfelt moment was interrupted by the slam of the door, and the shouts for Sam to get his arms in the air. Sam hesitated, as whatever was in him started to come back into the open. 'Sam' grinned, turned his head and began to reach for the knife lying next to him. His actions were interrupted by the stentorian sound of the bullet. The bullet that pierced Sam directly in the heart.

That's when Sam came back, but just long enough to look down at his brother, silently apologizing for putting him threw all of this. Sam then collapsed to the floor, giving Dean a clear view of the policewoman who had killed his brother.

"Sam!" Dean yelled, suddenly finding his voice when he realized that his brother was dead.

He tried his hardest to pull himself up, but he was too weak to, and his body would no comply with the demands he was trying to set on it. Dean began to sob, he knew that bullet had hit dead on, and that his brother had to be dead by now. He wasn't invincible. Dean sobbed loud harsh sobs as he rolled off his brother, and tried his best to pull himself over with one arm, knowing that this action could completely wear him out.

When Dean saw his brother's lifeless face, even though it was a couple feet away, he gave up, and let his body collapse down. Dean knew he was going to be ok. Physically. He knew the police would get him to the hospital in a matter for 10 minutes, and he would be fine. But he would never be fine, because his brother was dead. And there was nothing he could do about it. For the rest of his life, this moment would stay with him in the worst possible way. He couldn't hear the police officers yelling, or feel the hands trying to get him to the ambulance. He was completely paralyzed in this darkness that was consuming him. He slowly drifted into unconsciousness and all he could do before falling into it was pray he would never wake up.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: I actually intended for this story to be a oneshot, but when people said they wanted to read more, I started thinking on how I could continue the story and I came up with an idea. I'm not really sure if this will be a short story or one with a lot of chapters but I guess we'll see : )

- - - - - -

Bed.

That's the first thing Dean noticed when he woke. He was too comfortable to open his eyes, knowing that when he did Sam would notice he was awake and tell him to get out of bed and get in the shower. Or he would look over and see Sam lying on his bed moaning about the hangover from the night before. Cause he was in the motel room right? That's why the bed was so uncomfortable. Why the blankets were itchy and uncomfortable.

Guess he was wrong. The reality of where he was hit him in the form of white walls. The white walls that surrounded him along with some machines, IV's and other things he wouldn't find in a motel room. That could only mean one thing.

Hospital.

That was the next thing that hit him. Not the reason he was there, that came after the pain. His head was throbbing. Why was his head throbbing? His shoulder was stinging. Why was his shoulder stinging? His entire body was aching. Why was his entire –

Sam.

That's when every memory of the last time he was conscious came back into perspective. The timeline played out in his head as he fought to remember everything he could from those hours. Sam came barging in the room. They fought. Dean hit his head. Sam stabbed him. Sam was different. Sam tried to help him. Sam apologized over and over. Sam's leg was hurt. Sam took care if Dean for hours while he couldn't sleep. The door slammed open. A gunshot sounded. Sam –

Sam died.

Sam was dead, and when Dean remembered that he gasped out loud and already felt the nervous cold sweat coming down. He tried his hardest to get up but soon realized that his body was too weak to move. His hand flew, sweeping over the nightstand and knocking over and cup of water that had been placed there in case in he woke up. Dean's eyes grew wide and he finally located the button to call for a nurse. He hit it maybe 15 times. Just to make sure they heard him.

Almost 20 seconds later a nurse came flying threw the door expecting there to be an emergency because of the number of times the button was pressed.

"You're awake!" she said slowing down slightly.

"Where the hell am I?" Dean yelled even though it was more of a horse screech. That's when he realized how much his throat was hurting, and that speaking seemed to be something so foreign even though he did it all the time.

The nurse slowly walked towards him putting her hands like she was proving to him she wasn't carrying a weapon, "Sir, please calm down,"

Dean realized yelling at the nurse would only prolong his attempt to get information so he relaxed his body language and said, "Ok… Sorry."

The nurse nodded patiently. It was obvious she had dealt with confused patients before, "You're in Granville Medical Center hospital in Oxford, North Carolina. Sir can you tell me your name?"

Dean looked at her strangely. Of course he could. Why not? "Uhh, yeah." He said as if she was stupid, "Dean… Dean Fuller," quickly trying to remember what name was on his latest fake insurance card.

The nurse scribbled something down on her notepad and smiled sweetly before starting "Well Mr. Fuller you sustained, quite a few in-"

"My brother." Dean stated while staring at the bed sheet. He didn't care what injures he had 'sustained'. All he cared about right now was his brother. Maybe there was some miracle. Maybe his brother wasn't dead.

"I'm sorry Mr. Fuller, who is your brother?" she asked politely, confused by his random statement.

"The man that was with me when the police officer found us, what happened to him?" he asked, praying she would say he was in jail or something. Then at least Dean could bust him out.

The nurse dropped her hand with the clipboard in it down to her side and let out an exhale. She looked at him compassionately before saying, "I'm sorry…"

Dean didn't have to hear the rest. He knew the rest. His brother was dead. There was no miracle. Dean felt tears began to sting their way out from his eyes when he heard his worst nightmare was coming true. He didn't even consider the next few sentences she said. Nothing she had to say meant anything to him. For those next few seconds he felt like he did right before he had lost contiousness before. Like he was disconnected from his body and he was the only one there. The only one there trapped in all his problems. He only started to come back to reality when she paused.

Dean looked down and quickly reached to wipe a few tears threatening to embarrass him even more than he already was.

"You've been in a coma for about five days. We weren't expecting you to wake up so quickly…" she said, trying to make this whole bewildering situation make sense to him.

Dean only nodded slightly. "Why…" he started before taking a breath and then continuing, "Why did the police know where we were?"

The nurse nodded, understanding he might not know the entire situation, "Your brother… He killed 4 people here in town before attacking you. The police were on his trail and eventually were able to figure out where you were."

Dean just stared at her when he heard that his brother had killed 4 people. He couldn't believe it. A few more tears started to fall down by the time he stopped looking at her, but he suddenly didn't care. The idea that his brother was dead kept creeping back to him. Second by second it was slowly becoming more and more real.

"Well… I have to notify the police and tell them you woke up; they're going to want to talk to you…" the nurse said quickly before starting to leave the room.

"No… Could you wait a little bit?" Dean asked, knowing right now he couldn't handle the police.

The nurse nodded and said, "Get some sleep, Mr. Fuller." And then turned and headed out the door.

Dean relaxed his body and sobbed silently in his bed. Now that no one was here, there was no reason to hold back his emotions. He pictured how Sam would probably be calling him a hypocrite right now. All the times Dean had made fun of Sam for crying and being open about his emotions. Now Dean was the one crying and there was no one there to make fun of him.

He watched the nurse walk to a desk and begin to make a phone call. Maybe it was to the police, maybe it wasn't. Dean couldn't take any chances. Maybe if he pretended to fall asleep he could hold the police off for a while until he had a chance to think. He didn't to come up with what he was going to say. He couldn't go into this unprepared. Dean closed his eyes and began to consider his options. But after about five minutes he stopped pretending and fell victim to sleep - the last thing he wanted to do.

TBC!


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Sorry I didn't update for such a long time : ( I'll try to do it more often from now one, but I've had a lot of work to do, barely any time to sleep or do anything… Hope you like it!!

- - - - -

Waking up from a small sound is more annoying than waking up from a large one. You think: You could sleep threw the loud crash but it's the constant taping that ends up waking up. The stupid tapping of a pencil on the notepad.

That's what wakes Dean from the rest that seemed to only last ten minutes. Tapping. Tapping from a pencil. Tapping from a pencil on cardboard, no a notepad. And when he opened his eyes so slightly that no one would notice, he sees the last thing he wanted to see.

Or at least the second to last.

"Hello Mr. Fuller, good to see you finally awake," he was muttering though, it was obvious he only wanted him awake so he could question him. He was a police officer, after all.

Dean blinked a few times at the strange man sitting in a chair too close to his bed. This guy shouldn't be a police officer; he looked more like the kind of guy you shoved in the locker in high school.

He was scrawny and had black, neatly combed hair and black-rimmed glasses. His left pocket had two pens hanging from the edge. Basically your good, old-fashion nerd.

"You're questioning me?" Dean asked while giving him a look that screamed 'Get out or I'll break you in half'. And he could, he could and probably would break this guy in half. But not now, not in a hospital.

"Yes, Mr. Fuller. The district police station sent me down to ask you a few questions as soon as you woke up, and since your awake; we'll begin…" he said in a voice that was trying to sound superior.

"And you just let yourself in?" Dean asked, wondering why the hospital would just let a police officer hover over a sick patient, waiting for them to wake up.

"No, the nurse let me in. She said, you said it was ok." The police officer answered, very sure of himself.

"Well I didn't."

The police man just nodded and then began, "So what can you tell me about your brother…" he flipped to the back of his notepad and looked at something before flipping it back into writing position, "Sam?"

Dean just glared at him, wanting so badly to punch him right in the face. Knock that expressionless look away, and kill that patronizing voice. "Let me see your badge." Dean said. He knew this man was a police officer, but he wanted to stall as much as he could.

He rolled his eyes and reach for the badge out of his back pocket. He flipped open the flap so Dean could see the name.

"Officer Ned… Brinckle?" Dean couldn't stop himself from smiling. This guys was the ultimate nerd, "Yeah well Officer Brinckle, I'm not really in the mood…"

"The mood?"

"Yeah… Right now I feel a bit tired, so why not take your little notepad and-"

Dean was about to make some kind of remark letting him know what Dean thought of him, but just as he was about to he noticed the second police officer standing outside the hospital room. A policewoman. The policewoman that had shot his brother.

"That's the _bitch_ that shot my brother!" Dean spat out, his temper flaring. The officer had an expression of pure shock when he turned around and saw his partner standing outside.

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me that's the-"

"Now listen to me buddy!" the police officer stood up and suddenly looked bigger, just from the anger and frustration radiating off of him, "That woman, my _partner_ saved your life! When we found you, your _brother_ had a knife in his hand and you on his lap. He was about to-"

"MY BROTHER…" Dean started out yelling, but when he realized he slowed down a little and started over, "My brother wasn't about to do anything, he was taking care of me, he was…"

"Your brother's the one who got you like that, your brother is the reason your in the hospital right now. Your brother is the reason two children, a man and a woman are dead! Do you understand?"

Dean said nothing, what was he going to say? No, it wasn't my brother it was a shape shifter. No, it was his brother being possessed by a demon? No wait he said Christo, never mind… He would just tell the officer that it was something that had to do with the supernatural, right? Sure, they'd just throw him into an institution, strap him in a straightjacket when he realized where he was. Then again, that may be the only place to keep him safe from himself.

"Now I have four families that want answers, they want to know why some guy came into town and killed their child, their spouse, their parent! And I intend to tell them every ounce of information I can get, now take this seriously and answer my questions!"

Dean stared at the man, amazed at how he had stood up to him. Well, he was the one bedridden.

"Give me a little bit of time…" Dean started, not really sure how to explain why he needed time.

"Why? So you can come up with your story!" the police officer yelled in his face. Dean looked away; the officer practically read his mind.

Dean's head quickly shot back up and he glared at the officer's blatant rudeness, "Fine! I don't know why my brother killed those people, it's nothing like him! Sammy would barely hurt a god damn fly, let alone kill a kid!"

"What about you? He hurt you." the police officer said, provoking him to tell more.

"Me? Sam would never hurt me, once I got mad at him and punched him. I told him to punch me back; he wouldn't even do it! He's not like that, I don't know why…" Dean didn't know what to say except try to convince them something was wrong with his brother when he did _that_, you know, without telling them about the supernatural.

"Did your brother have any medical history of mental illness?"

"What? No! Nothing! My brother was fine!"

"What happened the last time you saw him, not the attack, before that." the police officer asked looking down at his notepad.

Dean thought for a second and then said, "When I saw him last he said he was going out to a bar to get a drink. I didn't go because I was tired, he just said he needed a little time to himself. But he wasn't drunk!"

"I know… he didn't have any alcohol in his system… Why were you two in town, anyway?" the police officer didn't seem to be buying this story, the idea that Sam was a saint who never hurt anyone, especially after all the proof against him.

"We were just passing threw, we're… we were taking a road trip across the country…" when Dean had to say were, instead of are the officer could tell this was getting hard for Dean. Dean blinked back a few tears, they weren't taking a road trip anymore, not now that he was dead.

Dead. He still couldn't believe it.

Dean want to explain anything to this pathetic excuse for a police officer. All he wanted to do was kill that policewoman who kept peeking in every so often. He didn't care she was a woman. He didn't care she was just doing her job. He didn't care she saved his life, if anything that made him more angry with her. He wanted to get out of this town now and find a crossroads, find a spell, find anything to bring his brother back from the dead.

"We'll pick this up later…" the police officer said quietly gathering his materials. He had noticed the tears streaming down Dean's face before Dean even had.

Dean nodded slightly and stared down at the bed sheet. He didn't dare look that other policewoman in the eye when he felt her eyes burning a hole through him, from the other side of the window. He wasn't sure what he might do.

Dean now finally had a chance to think about his options. No annoying nurses poking their fake smiles threw the door. No intrusive police officers digging into all the information he had while he wasn't thinking clearly about what he said. No policewoman staring at him, with satisfaction that they had been the one to kill his brother glowing in their eyes. He was alone in a white walled hospital room. The last place he felt at home.

He couldn't stay there much longer, that much was obvious. He had to go before the police officers ran his and his brother's names in the computer. Probably finding out the Dean Fuller was a heavy man who lived in Texas and was an only child. He had to go before it was too late to do something about Sam, find a way to bring him back. That's all that mattered, getting Sam back.

He had his plan: He was going to get out of the hospital room. He was going to find Sam's body and take it with him. He was going to get in his car and drive… Oh yeah that was another thing… Get to the car. He was going to get the car and then get Sammy… He would drive to Bobby's or Missouri's or the first crossroads or the first Hoodoo priest he could find. He would get Sam back. Then him and Sam would go far away, and hopefully he would never remember what he did. They would just forget about it all and find a place to hide, where no one would ever find him. Both of them wanted for murder. Sammy would find a girl and get married, have kids, finish college. Have a normal life. That's all Dean wanted, just wanted Sam to have a normal life.

Dean stood up from that suffocating bed. From those suffocating sheets and finally found his way out of the bed that made it hard for him to think, to breath. Those damn white walls staring down at him making him dizzy and sicker. No wonder some people stay in hospitals forever.

His legs shook under him. They didn't support him at all but that was ok. Dean could push threw that if it meant he was even a little bit closer to Sam. He closed the blinds on the window that allowed anyone to look in and take his privacy, changed and looked around.

Than it hit him, how to get out. He was on the ground floor of the hospital, and the window was right there. He smiled to no one and then lifted those blinds. When the window opened he climbed out as quickly as he could. One step closer to what he wanted. When they came into town they timed the way from the hospital to the motel – 10 minutes in a car. If walked fast he might get there in 25 with these practically useless legs. But it didn't matter to him if his legs fell off on the way to the motel, he was getting there.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Ok here's the next chapter… I'm thinking of doing about three more chapters and then wrapping this up. It probably won't end with all the answers but I might do a sequel if people want hehe. Well we'll get there when we get there but I hope for now you enjoy this chapter and REVIEWWWWW please!! I probably won't be back on to check until after work and that would soo make me happy after working forever lol. JK read if you want, review if you want, enjoy if you want, hate if you want. I love you all either way

- - - - -

CHAPTER FOUR

It took exactly 37 minutes to get back to the motel on foot. Not exactly the 25 Dean had anticipated. But Dean hadn't anticipated getting a head injury, stabbed by his brother, or thrown in a hospital with a bunch of people that automatically hate his guts. But that's all in the business right?

Scratch that. A brother dying is not in the business.

Every step Dean took seemed like some sort of miracle. His head was spinning, and he could have sworn he saw dots blinding his eyesight. His legs were fine though. Dean wasn't the one that got his leg broken, that was Sa-

Well, Dean's legs were fine… it was his head injury that hindered him from getting back to the motel in a timely matter. How he managed to get there without collapsing to the floor amazed him.

When he rounded a corner and saw that the motel was in his line of sight he thought he was homef ree. Until he saw caution tape. Police cars. Cops. Flashing lights. Reporters. Civilians.

Guess he forgot that his motel room was a crime scene.

A crime scene with quite a lot of stuff to find.

Dean ran his hand through his hair and shook his head. He never thought he'd have to break into his own goddamn motel room. His own goddamn crime scene.

As soon as he arrived in front of the motel, he realized. Dean stood out like a freakin sore thumb. He was sporting an extremely unattractive gauze patch on one corner of his face, and the area not covered by it was covered in bruises. He was also swaying and wincing with almost every step he took.

Yeah he was totally inconspicuous.

The front door was obviously not going to happen, so the back was his only option. A longer walk, but he didn't exactly have much of a choice. He needed to get in the room, grab a few things like the car keys, dad's journal, credit cards and just about anything else he needed to get from point A to point B.

Wherever point B might be.

Once he was inside he saw the stairwell and couldn't help but think 'Yeah fucking right.' He took a couple more steps and turned a corner to find the woman at the front desk being asked questions by a fired up officer. He couldn't risk being seen by the woman, but he also couldn't climb those stairs. It just wasn't going to happen.

He looked down and trying to be discreet as he pressed the elevator button a few times. He turned his back to the front desk and when he heard the lively 'ding' he cringed. Stepping inside he let out a huge sigh of relief as the elevator doors slipped shut.

He pressed '2' and leaned up against the wall, shutting his eyes.

_Wait… Why the hell isn't this elevator moving?_

He pressed the button again. Nothing happened. He pressed the door open button. Nothing. Dean pressed every single button in that fucking elevator and nothing happened. At that point all Dean could do was collapse to the floor of the elevator and let a few rare tears fall. He did not have time to get trapped in a goddamn elevator.

He didn't have time for anything.

He looked down at the filth beneath him and punched the floor in pure frustration. Can you believe it? The elevator started moving. Must have been a bone fide miracle.

Dumb luck. Whatever.

Dean couldn't help but let a small smile cross over his face. You know why? Because Sam would be smiling right now.

He quickly stood up and wiped the near invisible tears. No one would have been able to see them but Dean could. Dean would know they were there.

With another annoying 'ding' the elevator door opened and Dean stepped out to find no police officers. Not one.

Dean smiled again, more dumb luck.

That's when he quickened his pace, knowing this may not last long. His motel room door was already open, so he stepped over the caution tape and took a second to look around. Oh god, the carpet was stained crimson. This was the last thing Dean needed to see.

He didn't let himself loose his composure. He needed to get their stuff and go. He needed to do this quickly. He needed-

He needed Sam's help.

It took about five minutes to get everything together. He threw a duffle bag filled only with the necessities over the not stabbed shoulder and kept the keys in his hands. He knew he was going to have to make a quick exit.

He stepped over the caution tape again and then made the quick decision to take the stairs this time. He figured the police would try and take the elevator and going down stairs didn't seem to pose much of a problem. Plus, it put him right next to the parking lot.

He slowly made his way down the two stories and silently thanked god, or who ever was listening that he made it to the ground floor. That he made it here.

He opened the door to the parking lot and made his way to the Impala. Luckily the police hadn't figured out it was theirs yet. He threw the stuff in the passenger seat, before shoving the key into the keyhole. That had been too easy. He didn't expect it to be too hard though. On his list of threats, small town cops was probably one of the last things he could think of.

On his way out of town he drove by the hospital. He knew his baby brother was some where in a metal drawer, dead. He wanted to get his body, he wanted to so bad, but the fact was, it was impossible. He couldn't carry his brothers dead weight out. He couldn't sit him on a gurney and wheel him out un-noticed. That hospital had 50 times more security than the motel. The only clue he needed was the 4 cop cars parked outside. God, these people had no life.

Dean felt like crying as he drove out of town. Felt like crashing into a tree, felt like dying. He knew he shouldn't be driving right then, not after a head injury, but he had no choice. He had to find a way right now to save bring his brother back from the dead. Or he was going to be the one needing to be resurrected.

After about twenty minutes driving, Dean reached a crossroad. He sat in the impala for a few seconds, just thinking. Right then in that moment, the only option seemed to be to make a deal. But it wasn't going to be that easy.

The first problem was, Sam would probably wake up locked in a hospital, probably be freaking out by the time Dean found him if he didn't go on his little killing rampage again.

The second problem was, if Dean did try to make the deal he wasn't sure what it would be. Would he just drop dead right away or a day later like his dad? Then who would take care of Sam? Who would get him out of the hospital?

Dean knew he hadn't tested all his options yet so he yanked his cell phone from his pocket and flipped through his contacts. The first name he saw was Bobby. Bobby might be able to help, but he wasn't sure what he would be able to do. He was also 25 hours away, which would never work. Then there was Ellen and the roadhouse. They were probably 20 hours away, but what could they do to bring back Sam?

Then he found Missouri. He hadn't spoken to her for a while, but she was into all that spell stuff. Maybe she could help, or knew someone that could. But she was still at least 16 hours away. He figured he would call her anyway.

"Hello?"

Dean sighed and then said, "Missouri… It's Dean… Remember me? John's son?"

"Of course I remember you- Wait, something's wrong, what is it?"

Dean pulled the phone away from his ear and made a confused face for no one, "What do you mean?" Dean didn't sound distraught and was giving off no clues by his voice what he was going through.

"Honey, I can sense something horrible has happened just by talking to you. Now what is it?"

Dean slumped back a little in his seat and then gave a short explanation of what had happened. He made it brief and finished as quickly as possible, because right now details were not a necessity. All she needed to know was Sam was dead, and all he needed to know was whether or not she could help him.

"Oh baby…"

"Missouri, I- I just need to know if you can bring him back, if there's anything-"

"Oh Dean-"

"I'm dead serious. Right now I'm in my car sitting at a crossroads and I will make a deal this second if I have to. Can you help me, or not?"

Missouri said nothing for a second but then whispered, "Where are you?"

"I'm just outside of Oxford, North Carolina, apparently."

Missouri let out a loud breath that made the phone crackle before saying, "Dean your one lucky boy. I'm over here in West Virginia visiting a friend."

"Where?"

"Sewell, West Virginia. Off a dirt road, I'll get you better directions when my friend gets home…"

"I thought this was your home number," Dean asked sounded slightly suspicious.

"No this is my cell phone!" Missouri said loudly.

Dean raised one eyebrow, "You have a cell phone?"

"Of course I have a damn cell phone! What do you think I'm some old lady who just stays in her house in Kansas all the time? I go away. I visit friends. I take my cell phone incase people like you need me! Now get your butt out here as fast as you can, you're probably about five hours out…"

"You can help me? Are you sure?"

Missouri grumbled before responding, "Why yes I can! Why else do you think I'm telling you to come here! Now come, quick, I have to go to the store… I have to get-"

With that Missouri hung up the phone and Dean just looked around, still a little confused and unsure.

He looked at the crossroad. Looked at the passenger seat that should be holding his geek brother. Looked at the road ahead of him. That's when he decided Missouri was the only logical way to go about getting his brother back.

He threw his phone into the passenger seat, put the car in drive, and left the crossroads behind him. Hopefully, that wasn't his only chance.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Hope you like this chapter! Some things may not be completely explained in this chapter but they will be explained in the next : )

- - - - - - -

When Dean reached the house 'off the dirt road' in West Virginia, the first thing he saw was Missouri Mosley. She was walking through the front door with about four plastic bags dangling from her fingertips.

She was humming to herself. Probably planning how the rest of the day- or night would go. Yeah, it was already dark out.

She was so consumed in her thoughts and humming she didn't notice the impala or Dean's presence until she heard the sound of a frustrated hand slamming a door.

A hand that had lost all of its patience.

A hand that belonged to Dean.

She jumped and nearly dropped her bags. Spinning around on tipped toes, at the sight of Dean she visibly relaxed and sighed deeply.

"Goodness boy! What are you trying to do? Give a woman a hea-"

Dean had no time for heart attacks or hellos. His moments could not be wasted on pointless banter or explanations. He felt like once a certain amount of time had passed there would be no hope left to bring his brother back to him, "Missouri what are we doing?"

The woman let out another deep sigh and looked from Dean to the Impala and back at Dean again. He looked an utter mess. There were bags under his eyes and fresh tear streaks down his cheeks. His hair was messy and undone. There was a bump and fresh wound on his head that needed a bandage desperately. And probably the most obvious clue that Dean was in horrible shape were the blood and sweat stained clothes on his back. A dead giveaway that Dean belonged in a hospital. He belonged somewhere where he could recover.

But Dean would never recover until Sam was back on this earth, smiling again.

Missouri quickly noted Dean's 'no time to waste' attitude and decided quickly commenting on his appearance and lack of cleanliness, would only for lack of a better term 'piss him the hell off'.

"Come on in Dean."

Dean nodded and made his way up to the bottom of the porch. He grasped the railing tightly and breathed for about twenty seconds before making his way up about five or six stairs.

Missouri held the door for him and then guided him to a worn brown leather coach. He plopped down uselessly and rubbed the part of his forehead not wounded fiercely, looking up to Missouri. A signal for her to start talking _now._

Missouri nodded in acknowledgement of his silent request and then stated, "Ok Dean… I don't really know where to start-"

"How bout you start with how the fuck you can help me bring Sam back?" Dean shouted loudly.

There was a moment of silence between the two as the just stared at each other. Dean held the face he ended his attack with for a few seconds before he looked down ashamed.

"I'm sorry about Sam, Dean," Missouri said firmly, tears stinging her eyes. It wasn't really the response he was expecting; he was expecting something more along the lines of a slap in the head. Dean looked up to find a powerful finger pointed up to the heavens- to Sam almost and then continued, "But no matter what you are going through, it does not give you any right-" she stopped dramatically and then picked back up, "To disrespect me."

Dean suddenly set his elbows down on his knees and buried his face in his hands, "I'm so sorry…" he whispered through choking tears, "I just I don't know what I'm supposed to do… I mean-" suddenly he looked up with knew tears covering his face and almost laughed. He quickly stood up, "What am I ever doing here? Why aren't I at a crossroads? Why did I come- Why aren't I in a garage with the impala run-" 

Missouri quickly stood up and placed her hands on his arms. She looked him dead in the eye and said, "Dean. You are here because I can help you. I am going to help you."

Dean looked at her practically in disbelief, "Thank you."

Neither of them said anything for a second in an almost moment of silence for Sam. It was broken by Missouri who said something like 'I'll be back in a sec' and scurried from the room.

She came back a few minutes later with a few suspicious looking things and quickly set them down on a small table on the other side of the room. She motioned for Dean to come over by her and he complied.

"Now listen, honey. This is a little complicated, but I'm going to try to explain it to you as best I can."

Dean nodded quickly and let her continue.

Missouri took out an old book with some sort of instructions on it and a picture of a skeleton walking around amongst people. Dean basically got the idea pretty quickly. Missouri's entire explanation wasn't really needed, but he let her continue any way.

"Ok so there's an old Hoodoo spell I've known about for quite sometime… I just haven't had the right situation to use it." Missouri paused as if waiting for Dean to say something. When he said nothing she just continued, "It's a spell supposedly used to bring people back from the dead. However… It only works under strict circumstances, that's why we don't see people popping up from the grave all the time."

Dean slouched a little and then said, "Ok what are the circumstances?"

Missouri nodded, "Well first off it only works with siblings… A sibling has to be able to make a certain… sacrifice in order for the spell to work. With any other type of relationship, the spell is useless."

Dean quickly responded, "What ever the sacrifice, I'm willing to make it. Anything to get Sammy back."

Missouri eyed Dean, amazed at how much of his father she saw in him, "I know you are Dean, I never doubted you. It also has to be an older sibling bringing back a younger one. So Sam would not be able to use this spell for you."

Dean found comfort in the fact that Sam could not do this spell. That Sam could not make some sacrifice for him.

"Anything else?" Dean whispered.

"Well… The spell also only works when someone was killed while they were not themselves. When they were not in their natural state. From your description, it sounds like when Sam was… killed… he had just reached for the knife and was changing again. Am I correct?"

Dean made an almost invisible nod, "Yes."

Missouri continued, "So it's basically the same idea for people killed when they are a Werewolf or a Vampire or Possessed."

Dean looked a little confused, "Then why isn't this spell used more often? I mean, don't these kind of people know about it?"

"Dean you have to understand these people are probably cut off from their older siblings when this happens. Some of them could be the older sibling or have no siblings at all… There's also…" Missouri paused and looked at Dean.

"What?" Dean asked quietly, "What?"

Missouri sighed yet again and said, "No one is really sure what the long term affects could be of the people who come back… and in what state they come back in."

"What do you mean?"

"Dean we would be pulling Sam back from the other side. We're ripping his soul from the dead. He might come back how he died. Permanently."

"So you're saying he might come back-"

"Evil. Yes."

Dean looked around. No matter what he was bring Sam back. But now it was a question of what to do when he does come back.

"So what do we do? What do we do if he comes back like that?" Dean asked in an almost regretting voice.

"I don't know." Missouri said honestly, "Dean, I will bring Sam back. I will go through with the spell. But you have to be prepared that what we bring back may not be Sam, ok?"

Dean tried to avoid the subject by suddenly asking, "What is this sacrifice I have to make any ways?"

Missouri nodded, "Mostly? It's blood, and a lot of it." She stopped and noticed Dean wasn't really intimidated, "also some of your hair… And one material object…" Missouri said while skimming through the writing in the book.

Dean looked at the book too and asked, "What kind of material object?"

"The spell calls for something that Sam would recognize you by. But it has to be small, otherwise I would suggest your car…"

Dean looked horrified and thought, quickly coming up with an idea, "Here." He said pulling off his amulet, "Use this."

Missouri eyed the object in her hands, "He'll recognize this?"

"Definitely."

"Ok… Do you want to do this all now, or-"

"Now. As soon as we can."

"All right Dean, all right…"

She quickly began working. The older woman was pouring liquids and various herbs into a black thick bowl, almost like a caldron. Dean decided not to make a joke. Something along the lines of Missouri the Witch or asking where she got the caldron from. It wasn't that funny. And most importantly, Dean couldn't make jokes now.

Dean didn't think he would ever joke again.

She had placed all the needed ingredients into the bowl and placed the spell she had to read next to it.

Suddenly Missouri slapped her head loudly, which made Dean spin around in confusion and ask, "What's wrong?"

"Oh, honey… I forgot-"

"Forgot what?" Dean asked seriously. He couldn't let anything get in the way. Not when everything seemed to be going so right.

"We need at least one of Sam's hair and… I don't know where we're going to get one…"

Dean thought for a few seconds before quickly making his way to the door and back to the Impala. Missouri thought for a second he was going to drive back to the hospital in desperation, but was relieved when he went to the passenger's side of the car. 

Dean looked on the headrest and found one of Sam's long, brown hairs still there. Dean just stared at it for a second before whispering 'thank you' to no one. He gripped it firmly and made his way back to the house, hair in hand.

Missouri took it carefully and put it into the bowl, "Ok… Now for the blood."

Dean pulled out his knife near half a second later and asked, "How much do you need?"

- - - - - - -

A/N: Pleasseeeeee reviewwww : )


	6. Chapter 6

CHAPTER SIX

Missouri looked completely shocked as she reached up and smacked Dean in the head. Dean ducked, puzzled but eventually composed himself and looked at her.

"First off I'll be doing it and second don't start getting all reckless on me. Were going to do it, and we're going to do it the right way. You can't help Sam if you end up chopping off a limb and bleeding to death. And give me that dammit!" Missouri said angrily before snatching the knife out of Dean's hand.

Dean didn't protest, he let her take it because he was afraid she might loose it again and he knew he couldn't defend himself against a lady. He just stood quiet as she set the knife back down on the table next to the bowl.

"Making me cuss, boy. I should've hit you harder!" she mumbled waving a hand in the air, "Bring a chair over here!" she ordered.

Dean quickly complied and picked up a chair from the other side of the room and set it down next to the table. She motioned for him to sit and he did waiting for her to make the nest move.

"Now I want you to listen and don't you dare interrupt me!" Dean just stared at the woman everyone should be afraid of, and let her talk "For the spell to work there has to be a steady blood flow. What that means is the blood needs to be flowing into this bowl for a certain amount of time. When the blood enters the bowl you'll slip in to this trance and you'll see Sam there, ok?"

"Ok." Dean said.

"You have to convince Sam to come back with you, or it won't work. Sam has to be willing to come back to earth." Missouri informed him. Dean looked a little worried at this point. The Sam he knew might be afraid to come back since he had changed. His worst fear is that he would go through all of this and Sam would refuse to come back with him.

"Now the entire time blood will be flowing from you, but I'm not sure if you'll be able to feel it during the trance. This obviously means you don't have much time. If I realize you're loosing too much blood I'm stopping the ritual. I won't let you kill yourself over this, understood?"

Dean was hesitant as first but then eventually nodded. Missouri nodded as well and then pulled the knife into her hand.

"Wait." Dean said. Missouri looked a little surprised that he was slowing it down but then nodded when he asked, "Where will Sam be, when he comes back with me."

Missouri noted he didn't say if and knew he was determined to bring his brother back no matter what, "He'll appear on this table in place of the bowl, ok?"

Dean nodded. She took Dean's forearm into her hand and held it over the bowl. She looked at Dean one last time to make sure he was still for it and then held the knife to his skin.

"Wait!" he said again. Missouri looked at him and made sure he was really ready to do this but before she had a chance to ask him he said, "Will he be ok?"

Missouri sighed, "I don't know Dean. There's really no information on what state the person comes back in. As for if he'll be hurt or in pain, I have no idea. I hope not. But we'll deal with that if it comes."

Dean glared at her and said, "When."

She nodded sadly hoping he was right, "You ready?" she asked.

"Yeah." Dean said confidently.

Missouri made a cut on his arm and Dean didn't even wince. It was a bigger cut than he thought it was going to be but he didn't care. Anything was worth getting Sam back.

Dean looked up at Missouri one last time before he felt himself being ripped from his body. He heard Missouri talking; reading some kind of Latin, but it was getting distant. Before he knew it he couldn't hear it at all. He closed his eyes but the action made him feel dizzy as he swirled around in nothingness. He didn't know where he was going but that didn't worry him. The only thing he worried about was getting Sam back.

Dean's feet hit something solid and when he looked around he realized he was on a beach. He was wearing the same blood stained clothes as before and his head still hurt. He looked down at his arm to see it was bleeding. Dean looked around for Sam and eventually saw him sitting on a rock overlooking the ocean.

Dean tried to run over to his brother but in his medical state he couldn't and he didn't know if Sam would like that. Sam had his feet to his chest and his head on his knees. He stared blankly into the distant horizon as the sandy wind blew through his hair. Dean had never seen this place before and wondered why he they would be here of all places.

"I thought you'd come." Sam said in a sad voice. He continued to stare out into the ocean not giving Dean a visual clue that he acknowledged him.

Dean could tell he was in a fragile mental state already and knew he had to be calm and gentle when talking to his brother. He didn't want to make him angry or make him shy away from coming with him.

"Oh yeah? Do you know why I'm here?" Dean asked gently even though all he really wanted to do was run to Sam and wrap his arms around him and never let go.

"Yes." Sam whispered, "Do you know why it's here we're meeting?" He hadn't even looked at Dean yet. Hadn't even noticed he was bleeding.

Dean looked around, "No."

Sam nodded his head, "It's my favorite place in the world."

Dean looked around again and asked, "Why here?"

Sam smiled sadly, "Cuz it's where I met Jess.

Dean didn't know what to say to that. He just nodded and waited for Sam to say something else even though he knew he didn't have time to wait.

"Another person I killed…" Sam whispered just loud enough for Dean to hear. Dean was about to tell him no, that that wasn't true. But before he had the opportunity Sam continued, "I can't go with you, Dean."

"Why not?"

Sam shook his head violently and looked down at his lap, "Can't go back. Can't ever-Can't hurt more people…" he whispered trying to reassure himself.

But Dean shook his head too and made his way in front of Sam. Sam looked at his brother for the first time and gasped. He stood up from the rock and walked over to Dean gently taking his arm into his hands and looking at the cut that wouldn't stop bleeding.

"Are you really bleeding?" Sam whispered. Dean nodded, unsure of what to say next, "You have to go back. You can't loose this much blood."

Dean shook his head, "I won't go back unless you come with me."

"No Dean." Sam said turning around and facing the beach.

"I said you have to come with me!" Dean said loudly.

Sam suddenly lashed out and his face turned angry. He tried to hold back sobs but all he could do was muffle them. He graved Dean by the shoulder and pushed him away, "Go away! Go back! Go back right now!"

Dean barely caught his balance and said, "I can't do that Sammy."

Sam threw his hands in the air, "Why the hell not?! You said it yourself what's dead should stay dead. I should stay dead!"

Dean pointed his finger at Sam and said, "You. Are not. Staying. Dead." Dean felt small tears falling from his eyes as both of their emotions started to unfold.

"Dean please." Sam began, "Please I can't let you die, you have to go back. I can't… I can't go too after what I've done. I don't deserve it…"

"No, Sam you have to understand, it wasn't you." Dean said now trying to reason with his brother. He was cutting the crap and getting right to the point because he feared he could be running out of time to make his case.

"I killed four people, Dean." Sam said with tears in his eyes, "I killed _children_. Children!" Sam couldn't control the faces he was making trying to hold in the sobs, "I don't deserve anything. I almost killed you Dean. I was gonna kill you, I was gonna do it… I couldn't even stop it… I… If I go back I'll just do the same thing…."

"Sam-"

"NO!" Sam yelled, "No I'm a monster! I didn't even deserve to die, I deserve to suffer! Just like I made those people suffer. The things I did, Dean. Oh god…"

"Please, Sam. Just listen-"

"No you listen. I deserve what happened, I deserve to stay here forever!" Sam yelled now screaming in Dean's face.

"What are you talking about?" Dean said now completely lost.

"I can never move on. I can never leave this place because… because I didn't die as myself. Don't you get it! Don't you fucking get it!" Sam's face was now red and he was waving his arms around trying to get Dean to see his logic. But Dean wouldn't have it.

"I don't understand Sam." Dean didn't want to believe that that was really what would happen to Sam's soul if he couldn't get him to come back with him.

"Just forget it Dean, you don't get it. You'd never get it…" Sam whispered

"Sam you won't do the same thing, it's not you. You won't go back like that I promise. I promise everything will be ok."

Sam seemed to think about it for a second but then shook his head, "No."

Suddenly a storm came and the wind started to pick up around him. He felt himself being pulled back but he couldn't, he couldn't go back now. The palm trees whipped around and the sky was so black he looked like nighttime. Rain was beginning to fall and lighting crashed around the two of them. But the worst thing was that Sam was walking away. Walking into the ocean to be gone forever.

"No Sam!" Dean yelled after him. Sam didn't even turn around, "Sam please! Please I'm begging you!"

When he said those words Sam turned around and frowned, "Dean, please just get on with your life."

Dean shook his head and felt dizzy suddenly, he was loosing too much blood and he could hear Missouri calling him, "No Sam I can't get on with my life. I need you. Don't make me do this alone. Don't make me go on by myself!"

Dean had never cried as much as he was now. The tears were falling down almost as much as the rain, and Dean was making no attempt to stop them. He would cry until he had no more tears left and make himself look like a complete idiot to get Sam back. He would die to get Sam back. He just wished his brother knew that.

Dean felt himself being picked up by the wind and he fell to the floor. He clawed his fingers in to the sand, trying desperately to hold on to this place. To hold on to his brother.

"No, no, no, no, no, no, NO!" Dean screamed out as he continued to hold on for his brother's dear life. He couldn't let this happen. This couldn't really go completely wrong.

"I'm sorry, Dean." Sam said sadly.

"No, Sam don't do this. Don't you dare do this to me. Please." Dean begged.

Sam brushed some tears from his eyes as if that made a difference with all the rain falling, "I only hope some day you can forgive me."

Dean shook his head wildly, "I already do forgive you!"

"Not for that Dean. For what I'm about to do."

That was all Sam said before Dean felt himself being ripped from the earth. His body flailed around as Dean tried to grab on to anything. Anything to keep him with his brother. But there was nothing in sight. A cry echoed from his throat as he disappeared from the place Sam's soul would rest and back onto the earth he couldn't stand to be on all alone.


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: Alright one chapter after this, possibly two HOPE YOU ENJOY!!

CHAPTER EIGHT

After Dean was brought back to reality – or rather his hell on earth – Missouri had to practically hold him down as he tried to go back. He clawed at the table trying to snatch the spell, to reach the knife. But Missouri was stronger than the hunter this time. Because when Dean was back he was weak from blood loss and tears. His mind wasn't working properly. His common sense had been left with Sam. Left on that beach.

Missouri stopped the blood and the truth was she had cut him in such away that he hadn't lost too much. It had been a slow but steady blood flow to keep the spell working. She would have pulled him out sooner, but when the ritual started she realized she didn't have the heart to.

What she hadn't known about the spell was that Dean actually said these words out loud. Every plea. Every beg. Missouri heard it all. She knew Sam was about to send him back himself and didn't want to rip Dean away after hearing the pure anguish in his voice. The unhidden pain.

She decided it would be best not to tell Dean this. It would also be best not to ask what Sam had said or let Dean anywhere near the ritual, not until he had time to heal.

From all the flailing and fighting back Dean had done after being taken out of the trance, in combination with the emotional stress he was under, it was no wonder he fell asleep close to 15 minutes later. Missouri had led the sobbing 27 year old to a bed and patched up his wound while he slept, not wanting to give him any reminder of what had happened.

She quickly got to work hiding the materials for the ritual. She didn't dispose of them, no, because she did plan to use them again. But she packed them all together neatly in a crate and put it in her car. She wasn't stupid enough to hide the spell, the most important part of the ritual, there, so she kept it somewhere safe. She took Dean's keys as well so that he wouldn't be able to leave and make a deal and while she had the opportunity, found some more of Sam's hair in the car for the next time they attempted to bring him back.

Dean slept for close to 9 hours, which to most people was a normal night's sleep. To Dean it was a selfish waste of time. The second his eyes open he was already getting to his feet and looking for Missouri.

"Missouri!" He called out from the room.

He threw the door open and walked as quickly as he could to the kitchen but slowed and stopped when he saw Missouri sitting at the table with a cup of tea in her hands, sitting across from her friend.

"Dean." She stated. The other woman turned around and made an expressionless face as she left with an 'Excuse me' as she set her teacup in the sink. Missouri stared at Dean not really sure what to say.

That was ok because Dean did.

"We need to do the ritual again. Now." That was the only thing Dean felt he had to say. That was the only thing he could even get his vocal cords to say.

Missouri looked at Dean sympathetically, knowing she wouldn't let that happen, "I'm sorry Dean. You can't do the ritual now. Not yet."

Dean had turned around and was already heading for the living room when he heard these words. He turned around slowly with a look of disgust splashed on his face. He couldn't believe this woman even _dared_ get in the way between him and his Sammy.

"What the hell are you talking about? Of course were doing the ritual now!" Dean said the words with such a force he could feel his tongue sting with anger after he was finished.

Missouri was quick to talk after and said, "Don't you cuss me. Now listen, boy and you listen good. If you want your brother back, you're going to have to trust me. We can't do it now."

Dean narrowed his eyes on the woman he wanted to hit. He wanted to hold a gun to her head until she did the ritual, but he knew he wouldn't. All he would do is continue to question her, "What do you mean we can't? Why can't we?"

"Sit down, Dean." She said motioning to the chair at the table. He hesitated at first but then followed the woman. Once he was sitting he felt the fight in him slowly fade out and he held his head in his hands.

"God, Missouri. I have to get him back. I need him back _now_." He whispered brokenly.

Missouri sighed and sat across from Dean, "We will Dean. But you have to give him a little time. You tried to get him back a little less than 11 hours ago, what difference will it make if you go back now?"

"It'll show that I care. It'll show that I'll go back over and over to get him to come with me." Dean said, sure of himself.

Missouri only shook her head and whispered, "No, Dean. It will just make him angry. He needs time to think, to forgive himself."

"He doesn't need to forgive himself! He did nothing wrong!"

Missouri nodded, "I know that. You know that. But before Sam will let himself come back, he needs to know it. You have to give him time. You have to let him heal."

"Then what do I do/? What do I do in the mean time?" Dean questioned.

Missouri placed her hand on top of Dean's and said, "How about you tell me what happened, huh?"

Dean hesitated at first but soon all of the events that took place were spilling from his mouth. He told her about the beach and how he said he couldn't leave. He told her he was guilty about killing those people but especially angry about killing the children. He told Missouri that he said he could never move on and the idea seemed to sound familiar to her. Once he was done he sat in silence waiting for her to give him answers.

Missouri coughed and said, "It is… It is a theory I have heard. That when your soul is not what's seen in your body when the body dies, the soul cannot move on… That it's trapped on earth, and since it doesn't know where to go, it just retreats to a place where it feels safe. Someone it loves."

"He didn't seem to love it anymore."

Missouri smiled sadly, "Would you like being trapped in a place on earth but not really be alive? And be all alone on top of it"

Dean shuddered and shook his head and then asked, "So what if we didn't do anything… He would just stay there? He would never move on?"

Missouri just stared at Dean; not wanting to tell him what she thought was true. She realized she had no option and said, "Yes Dean. I think so."

That was it. Now Dean knew. He knew he couldn't fail.

Dean barely agreed with the older psychic on the timing of when they would attempt to bring him back again, but he didn't have a choice. He had to listen to her and go along if he was going to get his brother back.

His first thought that night was to sneak out and go to a crossroads, momentarily regretting he hadn't just done it before. He spent hours searching for his keys in the dead of night only to be reassured the following morning that they were 'safe' and that he 'didn't need them'.

He then realized Missouri was basically keeping him hostage in the house until _she_ thought the time was right he made the decision that he would spend every waking moment looking for the spell and his keys. Maybe by some dumb luck he would find them and be able to fix this mess on his own.

They stayed at Missouri's friend's house for around five more days. Missouri and her friend ran errands and watched as Dean practically tore the house apart looking for what he felt he needed. He barely slept. Barely ate. One hundred percent of his focus was on finding those things so he could go along with bringing back Sam behind Missouri's back.

Other than that he still woke up every morning and asked Missouri if they would do it today. Like a child asking for something unimportant, something they wanted – not needed.

Missouri just didn't get it. Dean didn't want Sam back. He needed him.

After the long five days was up Missouri packed up the rest of her things and announced they were going back to her house in Kansas. Dean wasn't to eager about the idea, but she told him that a few days after they were there, they might do the ritual. That was enough for Dean and he agreed to go with her to her house. She gave him the keys and said that she would follow him. And if he so much as tried to go to a cross roads she would stop him and if he didn't want to listen he could leave the car here for all she cared. Dean said yes understanding the agreement.

It was a long drive to Kansas and it seemed longer than ever to Dean because he didn't even put on music. He just drove in silence feeling like he didn't have the right to play music. Not while Sam wasn't next to him to be annoyed by it.

Dean didn't even attempt to drive away from Missouri. He knew it would be no use. And the fact that she had been the one to mention doing the ritual again – not him – gave him some hope that maybe she would do it when they got to the house.

He was wrong though. It had been at least six days since they'd done it and when Missouri and him arrived at the house she took the keys back, hiding them again. She also told him to have patience because they'd be doing it soon.

Soon.

Not exactly what Dean wanted to hear.

Dean lazily hung around Missouri's house for days while she did what ever she was doing. He continued to bug her about when they would be doing the ritual but almost every time replied with 'soon'. Dean was seriously loosing all of the very little patience he had and on the tenth day of waiting decided that was it.

"Missouri!" he called after her as she walked in the house. He ran up to her and as she started to say something he interrupted her, "We're doing the ritual now. It's been ten days and Sam could be suffering for all I know. We've waited enough and if you won't do it I'm leaving. I'll leave the car here. I don't care anymore. I'll walk to a crossroads. I'll-"

"Dean!" she stopped him. Dean stared at her thinking she was going to try to convince him to wait longer and was genuinely surprised when she said, "We can do the ritual."

Dean felt his heart leap and almost expected for her to add 'soon'. When she said nothing else he heard himself say, "Really?" in disbelief.

Missouri nodded and said, "Come on. I have everything set up in my room.

She scurried up the stairs as Dean followed closely behind. When they reached the room Dean noticed the bowl placed in on the bed and a chair was close next to it. Everything was set; all they needed now was Dean's blood and the spell. She directed Dean to sit down and he didn't even need the reminder. Before Missouri had said anything else he was already in the seat with his arm over the bowl, waiting to be with his brother again.

Dean watched as Missouri picked up the knife as he asked, "Where was the spell?" Missouri glanced at Dean before she looked away and pulled the spell out from his shirt. Dean made a face that screamed 'Ew!' and then commented, "You really knew where to hide it where I would _never_ look…"

Missouri squinted her eyes and said, "You shut it boy!" she would have done worse, but the fact that Dean was joking for the first time stopped her. She unfolded the piece of paper and pulled the knife to Dean's skin. She turned to him and asked, "Are you ready?"

Dean nodded and said, "I've been ready the entire time."

Missouri nodded and made the cut in his skin. As he started to bleed she began to read the Latin and Dean felt the familiar feeling of being ripped from his body. He swirled around in nothingness before landing back on the sandy ground with Sam nowhere in sight.

He glanced down at his arm to see it bleeding again onto the sand and he quickly searched the area for his brother, but didn't find him. He wasn't sitting on the rock like he had been before and he wasn't anywhere on the sand so before Dean called out his name and startled him he decided to search the other side of the rocks.

He climbed over the rocks slowly and once he was at the top he saw the top of his brother's unruly hair. Dean wanted to run to his brother's side but then found his better judgment and slowly approached him. He walked down the rocks towards the ocean and then jumped down to the sand. Then he walked to the right towards his brother.

Sam was curled into a protective ball slowly rocking himself back and forth. Dean could only see his forehead and from what he could tell he was pale. His entire body was wet, from his hair to his now old clothes. His breathing was heavy and tired and he looked like he was dying.

"Sammy?" Dean called out softly. Sam looked and stared at his brother for a few seconds, his mouth open and his eyes wide.

"Th-thought you'd c-come s-ss-sooner…" Sam whispered wrapping himself more into himself.

Dean was a little shocked at his brother's appearance and the way he was stuttering and quickly got to his brother's side, "What's wrong, Sammy?"

Sam flinched away from his brother and tried to swallow back his stuttering as he answered, "Just cold… It's always so cold h-here…" Dean looked over his brother a little confused, he felt really hot. He slowly put a hand on Sam's shoulder but Sam quickly pulled away and scooted himself to the right. Dean felt his heart break at his tortured brother. Sammy didn't deserve this. He was the last person that did.

"How you doing, Sammy?" _Stupid ass question. Goddammit!_

Dean expected some kind of comeback. He expected Sam to go back into normal and just say 'Wake up Dean.' Before he found himself awake in that old hotel room. The one that is probably still a crime scene. But all Sam did was whisper, "Th-thirsy…"

Dean didn't register what he had muttered at first, probably because he'd never really heard his brother complain about discomfort before. Dean moved from Sam's side to kneel right in front of his face. Sam looked dazed. His eyes slipped from open to closed every few seconds and it seemed like he was battling to stay awake. Sam's body was practically the same except the pale skin tone. There was no physical evidence Sam was hungry or thirsty or anything. But the small utterance from his little brother was enough to worry Dean.

Dean paused unsure of how to respond before asking, "Is there something you can-"

He was cut of by Sam weakly shaking his head over and over and him whispering, "No can't drink… N-nothing t-to drink… Hungry but c-can't eat. S-ss-so tired. C-can't f-fall asle-ep…"

Dean didn't really understand at first but then realized there was nothing to quench Sam's thirst. No food to satisfy his hunger. He wondered if there was if he'd even be able to feel it or taste it or _touch_ it. All Sam could do was just be. Constantly awake. Constantly needing something but never being able to get it. Dean couldn't imagine his brother staying here for eternity. Being trapped like this forever. Just look at his brother after about two and a half weeks. Dean still couldn't believe it had been that long.

Dean tilted his head to the side and pushed it down a little bit, as if Sam would be able to see him better as he urged, "How about you come back with me? We could get you some water, some food. And then after you can sleep for a month, huh?"

Sam felt like Eve being tempted with an apple. Being tempted with evil. He shook his head more to himself and said, "I already t-told you D-dean…" He seemed to stop when he said his brother's name. Still in shock he was here, "C-can't go b-back. T-to danger-ous…"

Dean was about to say yet another plea for him to return with him when Sam jumped into a story, Dean wasn't sure he had time to tell, "M-maybe you w-wondered why I m-mm-met… J-jess… Here?" Dean nodded a little and Sam kept talking, "Th-there was a b-beach party… One w-week end we all d-ditched our w-work…"

Dean smiled a little when he saw Sam smile and whispered, "Doesn't sound little you, Sammy."

Sam nodded slightly and continued, "I-I was st-staring at her all n-night… Sh-she noticed and c-came to t-talk to m-mm-e… I was s-so n-nervous… W-well we t-talked fore-ver… And you kn-know what she s-said at th-the e-end?"

Dean shook his head.

"Sh-she said, 'Y-your d-differ-ent… Y-you s-seem like the t-type that w-wouldn't l-leave a g-girl behi-nd…' 'n g-guess what? Th-that's exact-ly wh-what I d-did… I l-left her b-behind… I l-left her be-hind t-to die…"

Sam finished with what resembled a small hopeless whimper. He stared at the sand with a look of disgust for himself on his face. He wrapped his arms around him a little more.

Dean acted quickly, "Listen to me, Sam. It's not your fault. Nothing is your fault."

Sam shook his head, "N-no b-but Jess-"

"Tell me Sam, would Jess want you to be here? Would she want you to be trapped here forever, torturing yourself?" Dean hated to use that against him but that was the only thing he could.

"I l-left her D-dean… I tried t-to leave you… B-before I… t-turned. Look wh-what happened! I-I killed th-thoose p-people… So I c-came back. L-look what I d-did th-then. I c-can't leave… I can't c-come b-back. All I c-can do is h-hurt people…"

Dean thought for a moment. It sounded like Sam had taken all this time thinking this out. He knew Dean would come back and try to convince him. He knew Sam felt like he needed to reassure himself. Dean felt guilty. There he had been these last days. Eating, drinking – sleeping. While Sam had been suffering, unable to do all those things we take for granted.

"Sam, please." He looked down again and forced Sam to look at him. Sam's eyes were filled with tears and fear. Dean could have sworn he saw his heart beating through his chest, "You don't deserve to be here. It was. Not. You."

Sam was about to protest but Dean didn't let him, "You are such… You're such a strong person. You're such a good person. You deserve to live a long life and to go to heaven when you die – in a long, _long _time."

"You d-don't believe in hea-ven." Sam whispered his eyes moving away from Dean's

Dean looked at the sky and then back at Sam, once again forcing his brother's attention, "I believe there is somewhere much better than here, Sam. Some where that when we die we'll be back with the people we've lost. Somewhere, where I'll see you when I die. How can you expect me to go on and never see you again? How can you expect that of me, Sammy?"

Sam looked Dean dead in the eyes, "B-because it's right. It's w-what I-"

"It's NOT!" Dean roared. Sam flinched a little and Dean grabbed his shoulders, "Please Sam. Please for my sake stop blaming yourself." He took his hands and held Sam's face firmly in front of his as he gently placed his forehead against his brother's and whispered so that if anyone else were here they would not be able to listen, "Please come with me. Please don't make me spend the rest of eternity alone."

Sam had never thought about that. He'd thought about saving Dean for his lifetime. For the duration of Dean's earth existence. He never took into consideration that he would never see Dean again if he sent him away. Dean held his hands firmly on Sam and used his thumb to wipe a few of Sam's tears that had managed to spill over.

"D…" Sam stopped himself and swallowed, "H-how d-do you know… It'll b-be ok-k? Th-that we'll b-be ok?"

Dean shook his head at his brother, "Because I'm your big brother, Sam. I just know."

Sam nodded and smiled. Before he reached up his weak hands with a wince and placed them on his brother's shoulders. The stood there, leaning on each other as Dean opened his mouth slightly.

All he did was say, "Take us back, Missouri."

A/N: Thanks for reading please review : )


End file.
